Ante Up: Deleted scenes
by GreenMamba5
Summary: Deleted scenes that accompany Ante Up.
1. Custos Biscordis

**This scene sprang up as I was writing a normal chapter of Ante Up. The beginning will coincide with the beginning of Chapter 28. I didn't want to include this in with the main story because it goes off into the left field a bit, haha.**

**But, several people asked about the relationship between Garrus' parents and Pallin, so I wanted to explain it and give some insight on the turian culture that's canon in Ante Up.**

**(Nothing explicit in this oneshot but...) If the idea of threesomes/foursomes or things of that sort isn't your cup of tea, that's fine. That's why this part is separate from the main story. :3**

**Also, in Ante Up canon, turian spoken language sounds a lot like Latin. **

**Custos = protector, guardian**  
**Bis = two**  
**Cordis = heart**

**If I spelled it wrong anywhere or have any other typos, I'm very sorry. Have a lovely day/night everyone!**

* * *

After showering, Garrus and Shepard returned to the mess for a quick breakfast. Victus was no longer there, his seat occupied instead by Broccha. Across from him, Kanna was wolfing down oatmeal like it was going out of style. Liara was beside her with a bowl of her own.

Garrus broke off to stand by Kanna while Shepard continued on to find herself something to eat. He laid a hand on top of Kanna's head, grinning. "Sleep well?"

She smiled up at him and gave an affirmative hum around her mouthful of oatmeal. She swallowed loudly and said, "Miss Liara sang to me like Mama used to."

"Did she?" Garrus chirped, smirking at the older asari. Liara frowned back at him, her cheeks flushing purple, as Shepard joined them at the table.

"Sounds like we should tell Dr. Chakwas that she isn't the only unofficial mom on the Normandy," Shepard teased, handing Garrus a dextro protein bar and tearing into her own levo-bar.

"Very funny," Liara muttered, chomping onto a spoonful of oatmeal with a huff.

Garrus ripped open his ration and tore into it, gulping it down before asking Shepard, "Have you contacted Aria yet?"

"Nah," Shepard hummed. "Gonna call her up in a minute, see if we can work around this Oraka thing somehow." She crunched into her bar. "Nof'ing's ever f'imple."

"Sorry," Garrus said, nudging her with his elbow, "I didn't catch that."

Shepard swallowed. "Learn to speak granola."

"Granola?" Garrus questioned. "Is that what you call that crunchy stuff?"

"Yes," she said bluntly, biting off another chunk and flashing a wide smile at him as she ground it between her teeth.

"Cute," he muttered, nibbling at his bar.

Beside them, Broccha's Omni-tool lit up with an alert and he slowly stood and stretched, towering over both Shepard and Garrus. "The boss calls."

Garrus laughed. His mother was the one on the other line, making good her promise from the night before to call Broccha. "Her rank is forfeit now that she's retired, you know."

Broccha gave a throaty chuckle. "Retired or not, I know whose command I follow, kid." He pushed up his chair and stalked out of the mess, checking the message on his Omni-tool as he exited.

Shepard quirked a brow as he left, chewing thoughtfully on her granola. "Loyal to a fault, huh? Guess your mom made an impression on her squad."

Garrus hummed, "Mom is to him what you were to me, I guess." Shepard gave him a look of mixed shock and amusement. Garrus sputtered, "I meant three years ago, on the first Normandy. A mentor, a friend."

"Uh-huh," Shepard chimed, enjoying the sight of him fumbling.

"You know what I meant," Garrus huffed.

"You know, we should get going, too," Shepard said suddenly, circling around him and heading for the elevator. "Lots to do today."

"Right," Garrus muttered, waving at Kanna and Liara. "We'll be back later. Keep an eye on her?"

"Of course," Liara said, smiling.

"Bye," Kanna chirped as Garrus whirled and bolted around the wall to catch up with Shepard.

He joined her in the car, still flustered. She was grinning, still amused by the earlier exchange. "Shepard, I meant-"

"I know," she said, her smile widening. "You understand my confusion, though? Maybe I've read into turian relationships wrong, but there is Pallin..."

"That's completely different," Garrus grumbled.

"How?" Shepard asked as she pressed the key for the CIC. "I mean, you've said Pallin is like a... godfather or something, but you never really explained it."

"I believe your exact words were," he spoke an octave higher to imitate her voice, "_never mind. I don't want to know._"

She frowned. "Maybe I changed my mind."

Garrus chuckled. "There's not that much to explain about it, really. Think of it as... a secondary mating."

Shepard muttered, "A _godparent with benefits_? Humans don't exactly have anything like that. I mean, I'm sure there's some kind of fetish..." Garrus gave and amused chirp and cocked a browplate at her. "What?"

"Humans are so strange," he said, grinning.

"And turians aren't?" Shepard countered. "Your species mates for life, yet you make it sound like this sort of thing is common."

"Not, _common_ exactly," Garrus replied, "but it's not _uncommon_ either. We call it _custos biscordis_."

"Which means?" Shepard urged. She tapped at her ear to indicate that her translator hadn't even attempted to convert the words.

Garrus hummed for a moment, his jaw clicking shut as he thought of a translation. "The closest meaning would be _the protector of two hearts_."

They arrived at their floor and stepped out into the mostly empty CIC. Garrus glanced around, assessing how many people where within hearing range. Shepard pushed the topic, though, convinced that there were few enough people around to still consider the conversation private. "So, a secondary mating? And that's acceptable to your people?"

"It makes perfect sense," Garrus muttered. "We're a military species. Our entire lives, we're told that we could die any day... that dying in battle is honorable, even. On top of that, we're highly social beings that form strong bonds with those we care about." He stopped her in front of the galaxy map, facing her with a determined look. "_Custos biscordis_is something that came about because of that."

Shepard said, "Maybe I'm not following..."

"Okay," Garrus sighed. "As an example, take a mated pair. They've established their bond, maybe had children. Say one of them goes to war and gets killed. The surviving partner would be devastated by it, might not be able to handle it at all.

He continued, "Now, say that pair had connected with another pair-"

"A pair?" Shepard interrupted.

Garrus huffed, "Yes. If the two pairs had entered into a bond together, it would make to grieving process easier. The turian that lost a mate would have two others immediately there supporting them. Or, in the worst case, should there be children involved and both their parents die, the other pair would adopt them as their own."

"So it's between two couples?" Shepard questioned, leaning against her private terminal.

"Ideally, yes," Garrus said.

"I mean, that's similar to the human concept of godparents," Shepard said, "but you said there would be a physical aspect to it. Humans don't take it that far."

"Humans are prudes," Garrus scoffed. "Besides, I said it _could_become a physical thing. Every bond is different. A physical connection is only established if there's a need for it. Remember how our stress response works, Shepard."

"And your first mate couldn't take care of that?" Shepard said skeptically.

"They couldn't if they were stationed somewhere else," Garrus said simply. "An easy example: Mom stayed in the Blackwatch and Dad went to C-Sec. If Mom was sent out, they might not see each other for months. But..." He hesitated, giving and embarrassed sort of humm. "Well, Pallin was in C-Sec, too, so the problem sort of resolved itself."

"And your mom?"

"Oh, she was fighting all the time, so she was fine," Garrus said offhandedly.

"So, Broccha..." Shepard said, trailing off to let Garrus finish the thought himself.

"You're still caught up on that?" Garrus grumbled. "They're close, but only as comrades. It doesn't go any farther than that."

"But what if your mom wasn't fighting?"

"Sparring," Garrus deadpanned.

"What if it wasn't an option?"

"It's always an option," Garrus muttered. "But, if not, there's the depressant shots."

"What if she'd taken them already?" Shepard pressed with a grin.

A frustrated growl rumbled in Garrus' throat. "Broccha and his mate agreed to keep their mating between the two of them. Even in the worst case, Mom wouldn't have become involved in it."

"But she could've?" Shepard asked.

"If they'd discussed it, I guess," Garrus sighed. "But that would've involved everyone, including Dad, Pallin, and Broccha's mate. And it wouldn't have been anything official or legally recognized. It would've been a lot of trouble for nothing."

"So Broccha's mate..." Shepard began.

"What about her?"

"Where does she play in to all this? If she didn't want to include anyone else, how did she cope while he was on duty?" Shepard crossed her arms, showing her defiance in response to Garrus' impatient frown. "And him being close to your Mom, and serving with her for who knows how long... didn't she get jealous?"

"First of all," Garrus groaned, "we don't bother with jealousy very often."

"Says the possessive turian," Shepard chirped with a smirk.

"Possessive, yes," Garrus said simply, "but I know you wouldn't betray me."

"You said before that you wouldn't want to include anyone else, though," Shepard recalled, "and Sol said you were the jealous type, remember?"

"_Jealous_ isn't exactly the right word," Garrus said. "_Competitive_, maybe. There couldn't be anyone else involved with us because I'd want to outdo them."

He was suddenly very close to her, nearly trapping her against her terminal. "Seems like that would be a common problem."

"It's not, really," he said, tracing a hand up her arm. "If there's even the slightest possibility that it would cause hostility, we just don't agree to enter into _custos biscordis_. It has the same importance as a bondmating and can't be reversed once it's in place. And, just as you can only have one legally recognized bondmate, you can only be officially connected to one other pair."

"What's the difference between official and unofficial?" Shepard said, bringing up her hand and splaying it against his chest.

"Markings," Garrus replied, touching her left shoulder gently. "A bite on the left side symbolizes a primary bond." He dragged a talon across her collarbone to the other shoulder. "The right symbolizes a secondary bond. There could be one or two bite marks, depending on the circumstances. In my parents case, they only have one mark, from Pallin, because they bonded after his mate passed. Pallin has two marks, though, one from Dad and one from Mom, and the scars are connected."

Shepard's brows curved into a sad arch. "They bonded after she died?"

"Yeah," he said. "Pallin and Phaedra, his mate, agreed to bond with Dad as soon as he found a mate. Of course, then he bonded with Mom and it changed things a bit. She hadn't been raised around turians, so she didn't know anything about our culture. Dad didn't want to spring something like that on her until she was ready." He frowned. "But then Relay 314 happened and Pallin was a complete wreck. They had to do something."

"That's..." Shepard traced his mandible and it quivered with a whine that was just outside of Shepard's hearing range. "That's so sad."

"It turned out okay, at least," Garrus said. "You haven't had a chance to really see them together, but they compliment each other well." He changed the subject. "Anyway, you asked about Broccha's mate earlier."

Shepard nodded. "Yeah. You haven't said much about her."

"Yulia's her name," Garrus said with a hint of a smile. "She used to watch Sol and me when we were kids."

"Where'd she serve?"

"Tech division during her basic, but nowhere after that," Garrus supplied. "She's a civilian, works as a receptionist at a Sirta Foundation branch on Palaven." He grinned. "You'd get her in a room with Broccha, Mom, Dad, and Pallin and she couldn't understand anything they talked about. Bombs and guns and terrorism. She'd always just come play with us kids. She always said she dreaded the day that we went to basic, because we'd all become military nuts like them."

"You, Sol, and her kids, I guess?" Shepard said, smiling. Garrus motioned for her to walk away from her terminal and they began walking toward the airlock.

"That's right," Garrus said. "Broccha's got four kids. Three sons-"

"One he wants to hook up with Sol," Shepard teased.

"Oh, he's tried that with all three of them," Garrus grumbled. "The oldest two are mated now, so he was talking about the youngest." He laughed, his eyes squinting happily. "Spirits, it's been years since I saw them all. Well, since basic at least. We all went our separate ways after that. Anyway, three sons and a daughter."

Shepard grinned at him. "A daughter, huh?"

"Before you ask, yes he tried to set us up, too. Didn't work so well," he said with a barked laugh. "Melia can't stand me."

"Can't imagine why," Shepard teased. "You're so _law-abiding, traditional, and non confrontational._"

"That's what women look for in a man?" Garrus chimed. "Well, damn, I've been doing it wrong this whole time."

As they reached the airlock, Shepard tiptoed to kiss his scarred mandible. "Wouldn't have you any other way, though."

"Like I said," Garrus chirped. "Humans. You're a strange breed."

"The strangest," Shepard sang. "But you love it."

"I do," Garrus purred, swinging an arm around her back to escort her out. "So... Oraka?"

"Yeah, time to settle this mess and get back to Aria."

"He better not be pouting in a bar somewhere, Shepard, or I just might put him out of his misery this time," Garrus joked.

"You and me both."


	2. The Last Time

**This falls directly after chapter 29, during the Sur'Kesh mission.**

* * *

The exchange on Sur'Kesh was taking longer than expected. Granted, the transfer of the krogan females would take time. Shepard would have to go through proper channels if she wanted to salvage the fragile alliance with the salarians. It wasn't like she could just bust into the place and swoop out with the females. Still, with every second the squad was away, Victus grew more and more anxious, pacing aboard the Normandy.

What if something went wrong? What if they refused to release the females? Without them, there was no way to win support from the krogan, and without the krogan... Victus tried not to dwell on it. He had to have faith that Shepard would follow through and successfully broker an alliance. Vakarian had always trusted her whole-heartedly, even before the two had become mates. Victus knew that he could at least trust Garrus. He just hoped the younger turian's trust in Shepard wasn't misplaced.

The primarch hid away in the War Room, deciding that his men didn't need to see him as anxious as he was. Uncertainly spread like a plague, especially in times of war. The last thing he needed was to promote fear in his soldiers.

When he arrived at the console, it's red glow washing over the room, he leaned in to the light, trying to relax. Incidentally, the transfer of the females wasn't the only thing on his mind. Ever since the Summit, Wrex's words had left a nagging fear in the pit of his stomach.

_"Reaper scouts have arrived on Tuchanka."_

Victus knew months ago that the Reapers were turning their sights to Tuchanka, but Wrex mentioning it must've meant that the true invasion had begun, a full-scale attack on the planet Victus had so stupidly sent his son to.

Comm connections with Tarquin had been shoddy as of late. Signals in the Krogan DMZ never had been entirely reliable. Victus decided to attempt a connection, though, silently praying that his transmission would go through, just this once. If he could hear his son, it would ease his mind. If he could hear him, he'd know that Tarquin was safe, if only for the moment.

By a stroke of luck, the signal made contact, and Tarquin's voice echoed from Victus' Omni-tool, shaky from the unstable connection but still present.

[Dad?]

"Tarquin," Victus said a little too eagerly. "Can you hear me?"

[Yeah, barely,] he replied. [Conne...tion's... bad.]

"Are you okay?" Victus asked, trying to slow his words a little so they'd be heard.

[Made it to... -chanka,] Tarquin said. [Trying t... find the bomb site. Coordin... weren't accu...ate.]

"Stay focused and get it done," Victus said. "And, son, be _careful_. Reaper forces have started moving in."

[I know,] Tarquin muttered. [Saw a... -eaper on the way. Managed to fly by unnotic... As long as... aren't many of them, we shou... be able to stay hidden.]

"Just don't take any unnecessary risks," Victus urged.

[So...] Tarquin said. [That promotion gon... to your head yet?]

Victus braced his hands onto the console, his head drooping forward. He almost wanted to scold his boy for changing the subject. He had Reapers to worry about. He should be keeping alert, not small talking. But, Victus was struck by the awful thought that he might never hear his son again, and tried to converse as casually as possible. "Not yet. Being stuck on a ship, trying to form an alliance with the krogan... The title involves less glory and more frustration."

[Too bad y... aren't here,] Tarquin laughed. [These men keep comp...aring me to their old CO. Someone named So...ana Vakarian. She any relation to... -at guy that served under you?]

"She's his younger sister," Victus said.

[Well, tell her sh... can have them back,] Tarquin said mirthfully. [They pretty mu... hate me. Don't want to... -ollow orders at all.]

"Make them listen, son," Victus hissed. "Your success depends on your ability to make them follow you."

[I'm just no... cut out for this, Dad,] Tarquin said.

"Of course you are," Victus insisted. "I wouldn't have sent you if I didn't think you were capable."

[If you... -ay so,] he replied. [I just...] He was cut off, not by static, but by an warning siren going off on his end. [Spirits...] he gasped. [Dad, gotta go!] As he disconnected, he was shouting, [Everyone, I want radio silence! And fly low!]

The signal fizzled out and Victus gripped the console for dear life. Tarquin had given no explanation, but, of course, he didn't really have to. They'd run into Reapers, that had to be it. Victus bowed his head lower, swallowing the sounds that were building up in his throat. He'd wrapped his whole universe around a child and then sent that child off to war, very possibly to his death.

_If it ends this way,_ Victus screamed in his head, _it's all your doing. You are your son's executioner. You are the lowest of the low._

He backed away from the console and headed for the conference room, prepared to bring the matter to Shepard once the squad returned. He was going to ask her to go to Tuchanka. And, if needed, he would resort to begging.

* * *

**I'll have the next full chapter posted in the next day or so, so be on the lookout for it! It will cover Sur'Kesh, meeting Eve, and making a quick trip by the Citadel.**

**Anyway, I wanted to add some depth to the whole "Tuchanka Bomb" mission. It's not just some soldier stuck in the middle of Reaper fire, it's Victus' son. I can't even imagine how worried he must've been and how guilty he must've felt.**

**So, my heart was bleeding and I wanted to give them one last conversation before the end. T^T**


	3. Prequel Bitey-Scratchy Love

**This is set some time in Mass Effect 2**

* * *

Their first nights together had been a tentative test. Garrus had gone to excruciating lengths to watch for possible reactions, gauge how Shepard had responded to his carefully-planned movements, and make a mental record of what each of her sounds meant. It had been nerve-racking, to say the least, and, though Garrus had enjoyed their lovemaking immensely, he had been holding back for fear of harming her. It was actually starting to wear him down and turn their precious hours together into a fumbled, awkward mess.

And, it didn't take Shepard long to notice.

"Garrus," she whispered against his neck as he made clumsy work of removing her bra. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," he replied, the word sounding more like a grumble. Though he hadn't been particularly skilled at removing the garment before, he was having more difficulty unlatching the clasp than usual. Though he had already undressed and she was nearly naked herself, they had barely made it three feet into the cabin and were hovering next to the bathroom door as though they were adrift. Shepard made the executive decision to take over and get things on the right track before it became too awkward.

She folded her arms behind her back, nudging his hands away. "Let me." She snapped the hooks open deftly and the straps slouched on her shoulders. "I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you. You seem anxious."

"Just need more practice, I guess," he muttered, slipping one of the thin straps down the freckled curve of her shoulder.

She caught his hand when he reached for the other strap. "It's more than that, isn't it?"

Garrus tried not to hesitate in responding. "Everything is fine."

He slid the other strap off and removed the bra entirely. Shepard was still giving him an accusing look, though, so he broke eye contact and dipped his head down to nuzzle her collarbone. He puffed a hot breath between her breasts and flicked his mandibles against the soft globes, knowing from recently gained experience that the motion felt pleasant to her. He hoped it would distract her from her interrogation.

It didn't.

She cupped his chin in her hand and tilted his head back up, insisting that he look her in the eye. "You're dodging."

"You're imagining things," he argued.

"Am I?" she challenged. She nudged him backwards, guiding him until they had reached the desk, and she shoved him down into the awaiting chair. He stared up at her, his eyelids heavy, and the chilly blue of his irises darkened with lust. Shepard had been taking notes of her own and, through careful experimentation, had discovered that her gunnery chief had a thing for being manhandled a little.

Shepard decided to test the kink further, straddling his lap roughly and pushing him back in the chair with a hard kiss. He growled in response, allowing her tongue access past the edge of his maw. The act of kissing was one that he had grown accustomed to quickly. Her tongue was soft and pink, much like the rest of her, and, though it was considerably shorter and less flexible than his, she used it in the most interesting ways: swirling pink against blue, probing inside as though she were mapping out his teeth. It was all very strange to him, but not unpleasant.

He curled his tongue against hers, lapping at her lips and drowning in her peculiar taste. He almost lost himself to it, until she gyrated her hips against him, scraping her inner thighs across his plates. He instantly ceased all movement, drawing back and fidgeting as though he wanted her to stand.

Shepard complied reluctantly, creeping backwards and placing one foot to the floor. She kept the other leg in the chair, however, and cocked a brow at him in question of what to do next. His attention was elsewhere, though, his gaze roving worriedly over her thighs. She followed his eyeline and noticed that he was fussing over the soft skin on the insides of her legs. Usually porcelain-pale, they were currently flushed from the friction his plates had caused, and he looked overly bothered by it.

"You... you didn't stop me because of this, did you?" Shepard asked cautiously, dropping a hand down to caress her thigh.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Garrus returned, his voice bordering on the closest thing to shame Shepard had ever heard from him.

"This?" Shepard sputtered. "No, not at all."

"But Mordin said..." Garrus murmured, glancing away. "He said you would... chafe."

She held back a laugh. "That's after a lot of irritation." To prove her point, she placed her nails against her knee and scratched up to the junction at her hip, raking over the flushed patch on her inner thigh. Four irritated rows blossomed where her nails had been and Garrus swallowed an odd sound as the red lines etched across her thigh. "Our skin reddens easily, but that doesn't mean it hurts." She ran her nails over her thigh again, raising more marks that cross-hatched over the previous ones. "It can actually feel pretty nice." Her curiosity peaked. "Is that what's wrong?"

Garrus' expression was a mix of emotions: worry, mostly, but something else underlined it. He liked the sight of the marks a little more than he cared to admit. Quietly, he said, "I don't want to hurt you, Shepard."

She processed the words, then stood slowly. She took his hand in her, examining the plating of his knuckles and tracing her fingertips over the edges of his talons. They were blunted, sharp enough to do damage if considerable force was placed behind them but dull enough that it was obvious he had been filing them. Shepard was suddenly hit with the realization that he had been holding back and had been taking more precautions than she had even considered.

"Have you even... enjoyed any of it?" Shepard asked guiltily. Had she been so enraptured by him that she'd ignored his needs? Had he actually been miserable the whole time they'd been together?

"Of course I have," he defended instantly. "I wouldn't continue if I didn't get _anything _out of it."

"But it isn't _enough,_" Shepard concluded.

He sighed, flexing his talons in her hand. "I just... worry that I'll get carried away. I've never had a partner who was so... _soft_. Even with my claws maintained, it feels like I could just rip right into you."

Shepard frowned, released his hand, and turned her back to him. He held back a whine but had a sinking feeling that this might be the end of them. In a way, he had deceived her, but, _Spirits, damn it_, he had only wanted to be the lover she deserved: gentle, tender...

She craned her head to look at him over her shoulder. "I want you to do something." His only reply was a hopeless quiver of his mandibles. "Scratch my back."

"What?" he blurted, mandibles jumping.

"I told you it can feel nice," Shepard said. "Try it. I'll tell you if it's too rough."

"But-"

"I'm proving a point here, Garrus," Shepard ordered. "Do it."

He hummed in frustration but quietly obeyed, bringing his hand up and resting it on her shoulder blade. He took a nervous breath and drew his claws down, only marking an inch-long section of skin. Red lines appeared, as she had promised, but she didn't appear bothered by it. He laid another test stroke down the opposite shoulder, pressing harder and dragging to the end of her shoulder blade. The marks were angrier, but she still made no move to stop him.

The marks seemed to swell slightly, taunting him to run his claws over again. Shame boiled in his gut. He was enjoying the sight of those trails on her back and his instincts tugged sharply in his mind, urging him to lay heavier lines into her.

"It's okay?" he asked, flexing his talons.

"That all you've got?" Shepard returned with a laugh.

"No," he grumbled, a little insulted at her amused tone.

"I'm not going to break, you know," she teased. "What's the worst you could do? Cut me open?"

"It wouldn't be difficult," Garrus warned.

Shepard spun around and he jolted in surprise. "I think you're exaggerating."

"I'm not," he said.

She grabbed his shoulders and rammed him into the chair, eliciting a sharp growl. "I'm a little hurt that you think I'm that weak."

"I don't think you're weak," he argued, "I just know what I'm capable of."

"How do you know I wouldn't like it?" she purred, leaning in and nipping the edge of his mandible.

He shivered. "I don't want to risk it. What we have is fine..." His undertone was a heavy purr and it grew louder as Shepard trailed her lips down his neck. He mewled as she placed kisses against the groove of his jugular.

"But think of what it could be if you let go," she whispered, her breath hot on his skin. "If you'd just allow yourself a little..." (another kiss) "..bit..." (another, with parted lips) "...more."

She nipped the skin roughly and Garrus nearly came out of his seat. She pressed him back, catching him in her teeth again, not nearly hard enough to break skin but it sent a spark straight to his groin.

He yanked her into his lap, his talons grazing her bottom and scraping up her back as he held her close. Every fiber of him insisted that he return her gesture, just a playful nip, but he fought it, focusing on limiting the force of his claws in her back.

She made it difficult to concentrate, however, as she bit down closer to his shoulder. She had no idea what a bite there symbolized, and Garrus knew he couldn't let her actually leave a mark there. However, words escaped him and instead his talons leapt into action to stop her. He clawed down her back, much more forcefully than before, and her head snapped up with a hiss.

Garrus stilled his hand as she let out a ragged pant, and he suddenly feared that he'd gone to far. "Shepard... I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I had to stop you."

"Stop me?" Shepard gasped. Her eyes slowly opened and locked with Garrus', burning with an intensity that he hadn't quite expected.

"My neck," he said. "That's where turians place bitemarks to claim their mates."

"Am I not your mate?" Shepard asked.

"N-no," Garrus stammered in embarrassment. "We're partners, but we aren't _mates_. That's a permanent union, one that's legally recognized. It's the equivalent of human marriage."

Shepard sputtered a laugh. "I almost _married _you?"

"It's not funny, Shepard," he grumbled. "I didn't hurt you, did I? You looked like you were in pain."

"Wasn't pain," she said.

He blinked. "It wasn't? So you... liked it?" He grabbed her shoulders, motioning for her to twist so he could get a look at her back. His inspection produced a result that made him uneasy. "You're bleeding."

"Bad?" she asked.

"No..." he hummed. He had left two considerable welts next to her spine and the ends of the lines were roughed up where his claws had scraped a little too deep.

"It'll be healed by morning," Shepard muttered. "My cybernetics patch me up really quick, you know."

"That's hardly the point," Garrus whined.

Shepard planted a kiss on his mouth then pulled back with a smile. "You let go a little and it didn't kill me." She cupped his mandible in her palm. "How was it for you? Letting go, I mean?"

He flicked his mandible against her hand, feeling warm at the affectionate gesture even if she didn't understand its meaning. "It was... hmm."

"Garrus, it's okay to enjoy it," Shepard soothed. "I liked it, really. You can get caught up in the heat of the moment and I'll be right there with you." She kissed his nose. "I don't want you to miss out."

"But isn't it painful?" Garrus asked. "That can't be pleasant."

"It is a little," Shepard admitted. "But it's not that bad. Sometimes pain and pleasure blur and it's hard to tell where one begins and the other ends."

"That sounds like something Jack would say," Garrus grumbled.

"Do a little more research," Shepard snapped. "It's pretty common for humans to bite or scratch each other, so pain isn't an immediate turn-off. How many times do I have to tell you that it can be nice?"

"Maybe," Garrus said, "but I can do more than a human could."

"Pain is a sign that you're alive," Shepard said.

"What?"

"It's a quote," Shepard said. "It's one of those things that people say to make themselves sound tougher, I guess. But once you've been so close to death, or once you've died once, in my case, you start to see the value in the words. Pain is... it's confirmation. I heal so fast now that I almost don't feel human anymore. I feel like maybe I am just an AI that Cerberus built." She sighed. "But AI's don't feel pain and I do. It's all I have to hold onto sometimes."

"You don't have to cling to pain like it's the only thing keeping you alive," Garrus said.

"But it serves a dual purpose," she argued. "You don't have to hold back or pretend you're something you're not and I get the assurance that I'm still human." She smiled. "And maybe I just want to push you a little."

"Oh, is _that _what gets you going?" Garrus said flippantly.

"You're not the only one who likes it rough," she purred.

"That... ah..." His mandibles jumped.

"You aren't the only one keeping tabs," she said, running her fingers under the edges of his mandibles to still them. "Now, where were we?"

"Pretty sure we were at the part where I tell you that touching someone's mandibles is an extremely intimate gesture," Garrus said quickly, said appendages quivering against her fingers.

"Oh yeah?" Shepard chirped, sliding her thumbs up to the junction at his jaw. She rubbed gently and he let out a pleased croon. "Is it something only mates do?"

"Typically..." he groaned. "But I think I'll let it slide."

"And the rest of the night?" she asked. "How's it going to play out?"

"It's up to you."

"I say we see exactly how much of those claws I can handle."

* * *

**This is my two cents in the "Garrus love biting/scratching" argument. I don't think he's a savage or anything, but I do think turians would be rougher with their partners. I think he would be very cautious until he knew exactly what Shepard could handle, though.**

**Reyna Shepard is a bit of a masochist anyway and she doesn't mind having scratches put on her because they heal very quickly. Also, she sees the pain as an assurance that she's still human.**


	4. We'll Be Okay

**This happens directly after Chapter 35 of Ante Up**

* * *

Garrus found himself sitting alone in the mess some hours after Jack's surgery. It was late enough that the Grissom students had given up on trying to see their teacher and most of the crew had already retired to the bunks. For a while, Liara had provided Garrus some company, but even she had given in to sleep eventually. Shepard was currently in the Med Bay, submitting to a check-up from Chakwas, and she intended to have Jack moved up to her cabin once she was out of the critical zone so she wouldn't be bothered.

The sudden shriek of chair legs scraping the floor caught Garrus' attention, and he stared wide-eyed up at his father as the older turian sat in front of him. Garrus muttered, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Aetius scoffed, "I'm not the one who's been fighting all day."

Garrus said nothing, just folded him arms on the table and buried his head on top of them. His father knew something was wrong, but it wasn't something Garrus really wanted to talk about. He knew Aetius wasn't going to leave, though, so he lifted his head slowly.

"Do you remember," Garrus began quietly, "when I was a kid, I asked you why you never said anything about fighting in Relay 314?" He looked lazily over to his father. "I heard so many others talk about how intense the battle was, how they served with bravery and conquered the unknown. It seemed like something to brag about, so I never knew why you didn't."

Aetius nodded. "I told you there was nothing pleasant about that fight and that there was no glory to be found in it."

"And that is was painful to think about because Aunt Phaedra died there." Pallin's mate, who had been killed during the 314 Incident, before Garrus had even been born. Aunt was the closest word to describe her. Had she been alive, she would have helped raise Garrus and Solana. "You said that they hurt her very badly, but I didn't really know what you meant by it."

Aetius stayed quiet, so Garrus continued. "When I was older, I had the bright idea to ask Pallin what happened to her, but he never gave any specific details. Just said that the humans had done terrible things and that he returned the favor. I always wondered, just like a stupid kid, what would have made him so angry that he would murder a bunch of humans, that he would commit a war crime."

"You figured it out eventually, I'm sure," Aetius said, keeping eye contact with his son. It was a sort of interrogation, this conversation.

"I had ideas," Garrus said, "but they all seemed so impossible. I've fought. I've killed people. But even if someone hurt Shepard, I don't think I could just murder everyone in the near vicinity out of rage. Pallin killed people that had nothing to do with her death, just because the were too close."

"There's a reason we covered it up, Garrus," Aetius warned. "There's a reason we protected him even though he committed acts that our people consider inexcusable crimes."

"I know," Garrus said. "Seeing someone killed, shot, torn apart by Reapers... none of it has ever really bothered me. But, to see someone laid open like..." Garrus felt nausea flood his gut again, like it had when he first saw Jack on that cot.

"You were lucky to have found her in time," Aetius said simply, knowing exactly where the conversation was going.

"How do you live with it?" Garrus murmured.

"Knowing that we didn't get to Phaedra in time..." Aetius hissed, his eyes closing. "We don't live with it, and that's the problem. It's impossible to live with something like that." He glanced toward the Med Bay, where the window was still covered over. "And you wondered why I didn't want you to leave C-Sec. There are terrible things waiting for you on the outside, Garrus."

"If I had know that _this _is what I would find..." Garrus's mandibles clacked against his face. "Jack... she has all those tattoos, but underneath them she's got so many scars." He crooned as he admitted, "I never thought much about them. I was always more focused on the tattoos."

Aetius stood, showing very subtle signs of discomfort. "They served their purpose. They're laid out in a way that hides the scars."

"A lot of them," Garrus hummed offhandedly. "They almost make me uncomfortable. Dizzy." His father gave an affirmative trill. "You too? I noticed you don't really like being in the same room as her, even."

Aetius turned quietly. "No, but I wasn't ever looking at the tattoos." Garrus' maw clipped shut as that sick feeling hit him again. "Good night, son."

"Yeah," he replied as his father stalked away. "Good night."

_We don't live with it, and that's the problem. _Jack was a walking reminder. Her entire body was covered in flashy tattoos meant to draw attention, but all his father had ever seen were the remnants of dissection. Garrus had never thought of his father as anything but.. .strong. Immovable and untouchable. But, he was just like everyone else. Haunted by the past and a life that he hadn't saved.

When Shepard slipped out of the Med Bay, it scared Garrus far more than he'd care to admit. "Hey, we're ready to move Jack upstairs. Give me a hand?"

He barely turned. "How is she?"

"Sleeping," Shepard said. "Her vitals are stable and Chakwas says she'll come to in the next hour or so."

When he was slow to respond, Shepard moved up to him, laying her good hand on his arm. He stared at it, could see cracks of cybernetics glowing red on her inner arm, as he usually could when her body was trying to keep up with her. Uneasy, he covered the light with his hand.

Cerberus had done that, too, made Shepard-_his Shepard_-their lab rat for two years. Even now, she held the traces of their experiments hidden under her skin. His thoughts raced in panic as he thought of Jack again, thought of the doctor's voice as he laughed at her pain. Sure, Miranda had headed the Lazarus project, but she hadn't monitored Shepard around the clock. What had those doctors done to his mate while she slept? Had they laughed as they watched her broken body mend itself together? Had they let her feel pain, just to see if she could?

Shepard claimed that she had no memory of those years, but had she only blocked them out so she could live with it?

_We don't live with it, and that's the problem._

"Garrus? What's wrong?"

He blinked up at her, suddenly aware that he was crying deep in his throat. Her eyes were wide, concerned, but warm, as he remembered them from the first Normandy. Despite everything, the War, her injuries, the things they'd just seen, Shepard was holding it together, like everything was okay. Garrus shot up and pulled her into his chest, smelling the crisp tang of antiseptic in her hair.

"I'll be okay," he said. "A little rattled, but I'll be okay." He had to be, just like his father had to be. "Will you?"

"I will be," Shepard admitted. She hugged his waist. "It's been a long day."

Garrus sighed. "The longest."

* * *

**Even the toughest people have something that haunts them. **

**This ties in to Garrus' parents' backstory. Aetius and Pallin served in the First Contact War/Relay 314. Pallin's mate, Phaedra did, as well. She was part of a recon squad that was captured by a human research team, and she met a horrible death there.**


End file.
